Until I Wake
by ClericalCandlelight
Summary: Based on a request from my tumblr. Dismas x Reynauld fluff. With Dismas offering to stay up to watch the camp, Reynauld feels obligated to give his love a good-night kiss.


With the estate towering over the hamlet, casting an almost inescapable shadow across the moor, it would be easy to assume it impossible to find the warmth of true companionship – such assumptions, of course, were not unfounded. Here, heroes came and went at about the same rate with which the Caretaker managed to finish marking new headstones; many lost their lives soon upon arrival, others lost their minds in the estate's monster-filled arcades, and fewer still were simply turned away by the Heiress, never to be heard from again.

Any companionship one might find here was temporary, at best; for the sake of both parties, one might surmise, as neither could be sure when death might come knocking for them next.

As such, Dismas felt it a blessing that he'd come to the estate with a friend already beside him.

Well, a bit more than a friend, actually.

" _You're doing it again."_

Dismas snapped back to attention at the Grave Robber's remark, glancing behind himself toward the campfire, where the blonde presently sat. The Grave Robber, meanwhile, was wiping her pick clean, holding it up against the light of the campfire to make sure that she had gotten the last bits of cultist flesh off her prized weapon.

"Doing what?" He raised a brow; honestly, it irked him that she'd say things like that without even _looking_ at him – if she was so observant, perhaps _she_ should be on night-watch instead.

The burglar continued her little cleaning session in silence, carefully setting her pick down beside the rest of her provisions when she was finally satisfied. A moment later, her head slowly turned to Dismas, her lips pulling into a knowing grin.

"Thinking about Buckethead – instead of guard duty, might I add."

"My name is Reynauld." The Crusader glanced up from his own blade in annoyance, a hand busy grinding a whetstone to its edge to hone it. "And considering we're all still very much awake, I don't think Dismas needs to worry about guard duty quite yet."

"Unless you'd rather take over?" Dismas flashed the Grave Robber an amused smile.

"Oh, I could never!" The Grave Robber was quick to decline, her smile growing somewhat sheepish between the joined annoyance of the other two adventurers; at moments like these, she felt jealous of the Jester, who had no troubles falling asleep before anyone else. "You're the one with your ear to the road, after all."

Knowing their time for rest was brief, it was not much longer before the Grave Robber too curled up on her bedroll, hat turned over her face to obscure it as she drifted off to sleep; her tendency to rib the others aside, she seemed rather grateful for Dismas' sacrifice as night-watchman. Bit by bit, the sound of the campsite fell into nothingness, leaving only the crackling of the fire behind him. For a single, painfully fleeting moment, Dismas experienced genuine quiet.

And then, in perhaps not the wisest move, an arm gently wrapped itself around him.

Dismas' response was almost instant; gripping his knife, the Highwayman quickly drew it from its sheath, holding it up in a threatening display towards his assailant-

He nearly dropped the knife in surprise at the sight of the man sitting beside him.

He looked a few years older than Dismas himself, his hair brown and long, his beard well-trimmed, and his eyes heavy; such eyes were not hard to find around the Hamlet, for even those who are not forced to make camp in these accursed dungeons often find it hard to sleep. Still, his was not the face of a stranger.

Dismas carefully returned his knife to its sheath, a low chuckle escaping him as he turned to look away, watching the room's sole entryway. "I could have hurt you like that, Reynauld."

"Nonsense." The Crusader beside him mused, reaching with an idle hand to tug Dismas' scarf away from his chin. "Your unparalleled finesse has never seemed to work against me, Dismas; I'm fated to be the graceful one between us, I suppose."

"It certainly works _for_ you." Dismas rolled his eyes, a smile spreading across his now-exposed lips. Reynauld's eyes fell to a scar on the side of his lip facing him, and he want quiet in recollection; of all the things the two carried with them to remind them of their first meeting, that scar had stood the test of time.

Honestly, Reynauld could only call it a miracle that that first blow had only glanced the Highwayman; otherwise, he may never have met the love of his life.

"Oh," He smirked, "how wonderfully it does.." He leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss on the scar, his beard brushing gently against Dismas chin in a way that always seemed to make him smile. "But we haven't time for any of that, unfortunately."

"Good; I'm supposed to be watching the door." The bandit nodded toward the entryway, though he continued to allow Reynauld to hold him like this. "You should probably sleep, Reynauld."

"I will." The Crusader assured him, his free hand raised as if to take an oath. "But, before I do...I wanted to give you something."

Dismas looked to Reynauld once more, a brow quirked and his lips now pursed in curiosity. "What, then? Some trinket, or-"

A pair of firm lips met his own, stealing his words away in an instant; from them, there was an undeniable warmth, one that warded off the cold surrounding them better than any fire or whiskey, absolving him of the stress that had accrued on his spirit. It was a heat he had no other choice but to surrender to, a strong hand resting on the back of his head as he leaned forward into the first kiss he'd been able to share with Reynauld in a long while.

When their lips broke, Dismas quickly glanced away, the heat in his cheeks making him feel ten years younger than he should. His own lips, however, couldn't help but smile, the pleasant warmth continuing to burn in his chest as Reynauld pulled him in a gentle hug.

" _Until I wake."_ He spoke softly into the Highwayman's ear, letting him go after a moment, finally rising to his feet. A few steps toward his bedroll, he stopped, glancing back to the other, a smile on his lips.

"I love you, Dismas."

Dismas continued to look away, pulling his handkerchief back up to finally obscure the color in his cheeks before meeting the Crusader's gaze. "I love you too." He smiled beneath the cloth, heart fluttering.

"Lordy," the Grave Robber groaned from beneath her hat, "why are you two so _gay?_ "

With a final laugh from the Crusader, Reynauld laid out on his bedroll, breathing a gentle sigh of peace before giving in the beckoning claws of slumber. Finally, Dismas was alone, his mind free to wander as true night hung over the estate.

While his eyes remained locked on the entrance with vigilance, his mind was filled with fond memories of glimmering armor, and his heart with a newfound hope that they would soon be free from the shadow of this damnable house.

Somehow, he knew that on this old road, they would find redemption.


End file.
